Quiet in His Love

I'm sitting here in my living room thinking about the list of events happening this week. The events that I need to drive to. Places my children need to be. An event my husband doesn't want to miss by doing the driving. It isn't the fear of driving that gets me. It's the fear of having an attack...a panic attack. It sucks! Blunt...yes. True...100 times yes. Questions swirl...Why...? I have no answers. Only more questions. More worries. More roadblocks. More hurdles to find a way around since jumping over them feels beyond impossible. This is not me. Yet, it is happening inside me. What will help? Better food choices? More sleep? Walks every day? Less caffeine? More water? Oh how I wish I had answers. Praying feels undoable...feels forced...feels unwieldy. This is not me. Where is the lady who likes to meet a friend for coffee? The lady who enjoys a drive out in the country? The lady who enjoys taking her family to the places they need to go? The lady who can and has bee...

  Many of you know our story. You know the heartache Tony and I suffered at the loss of two children to miscarriage. One child in 2007 and the other in 2009. God has used that sadness and heartache to grow us and to develop an amazing lending library in honor of our two already-home children. About nine years ago, during a correspondence writing course I took, I wrote a "play" and I feel compelled to share it with you here. This piece is not very in-depth, but I think it illustrates some important points. I hope that you will know my heart in it. Be blessed. Remember that you have a story to share with others. Your heartaches and trials and traumas shape you. God often uses those moments in your life to reach others around you. Hugs to you, friend. He cares for you.   From 2013: Losing Hannah An original five-minute play By Jolene Ceravalo Setting: A bed and dresser and chair establish the bedroom. Woman on bed crying, man walks in. MAN: ( Walks over to woman on b...

Five months and one day ago, we held my dad's Celebration of Life. So much time has already gone by, and when I look to a future of days and months and years without my father, my heart nearly breaks. My father was a jokester, a challenger, a thinker, a pray-er, a servant, a comrade, a believer in Christ, and so much more. It would be impossible to capture all that was my dad here. Like all humans, my father was complex, unique, and knit together by the Creator of the Universe. Therefore, it would be an effort without end to capture him completely here, yet isn't that what I have set out to do... My dad set out to share his love and care with those he came in contact with, especially his immediate family. He hoped to minister to people staying in campgrounds. He hoped to buy an RV. He hoped to meet the needs of pastors at various churches through church-improvement projects. He had dreams, aspirations... He never stopped dreaming, seeking, searching for what God had for him to ...

Today marks one month since my father's Celebration of Life... My father has always liked children. My mother recently told me a story about when they worked at SuperAmerica together before they were married. In the story, my, then 20-year-old, father was talking to a baby or young child the mother had set on the counter while she paid. It was obvious to my mother that this guy was special because he was actively enjoying entertaining and talking to the child. I've often benamed my father the pied piper of children and the baby whisperer. He just had a way with kids and took to them. Whether he was calming one of my crying babies or holding one in the sunlight to help when they were jaundiced or getting down on the floor to play cars with a toddler, he loved interacting with children. He even walked my young cousin around our breezeway years ago to try to calm him. It didn't bother him to try to calm a baby's cries; he seemed to enjoy it. He would start mimicking one of...